No Good Deed
by J.A. Carlton
Summary: Separated on a hunt Sam finds Dean in the hands of a creature that's stealing his identity and has to keep his big brother safe while he finds a way to save him. Sam!Angst, Dean!Angst. Warverse compliant.
1. Chapter 1

No Good Deed - spn fic chpt 1

By: sifi.

Disclaimed: As always.

Loved: y'don't spend this much time ficcing for 'em if you don't love 'em.

OOooOO

The darkness was pervasive, that was until he opened his eyes admitting shadows, shades and neon electronic colors to his vision. There was a red line that jumped in time with the rhythm inside of him, there was a little red heart in the corner near some numbers that he knew should mean something to him. His eyes lingered on the heart making something inside him warm and he felt his mouth smile, though he couldn't have said why.

His shoulders hurt, his back itched and he was cold, but he was hot too. Hot enough to feel like there was something on his chest, burning into him with every breath. _I'm in a hospital, I shouldn't be here. I need to be out of here._ He sat up and it hurt.

To the left something beeped, "Shhh," he hissed at the multitasking machine, the sudden inflow of cold air nearly choking him. The flavor of ash exploded in his throat as he grasped the bedrail, squeezed it as hard as he could and forced his body to relax, forced the desire to cough to go away. Looking down and breathing shallowly through his nose he saw the IV line in his hand. Moments later it was dangling uselessly over the other rail. His skin stung as he turned, the friction pulling uncomfortably, the pressure burning. _Feels like sunburn... I don't think it's sunburn. What the hell happened?_

He tested his strength slowly pushed up until he was on his feet oddly surprised that he had both strength and balance. _Why am I in a hospital? How'd I end up here? What happened? _He moved to the closet opening it quietly and finding a plastic bag with a scratched and scarred money clip that held a few singed bills, a small ring with two GM keys on it, and two rings, one that was a ruby colored metal and the other that looked like silver with a band of gold over the center of it. He looked at the backs of his hands then at the rings and slid them onto the appropriate fingers. _Hmm, married. _He searched the now empty bag again and scowled then swept through the closet, _okay, shoes... damn heavy boots man, where's the clothes, where the hell are my clothes? Oh this sucks! Screw this..._ he clutched the boots to his chest, stuck the money clip and keys into one of them, peered out into the hallway and noted the nurse at the station seeming to be playing a game on the computer.

To his left in a rack on the wall was a blue three ring binder. Carefully he lifted it out and looked at the spine the name Doe, John jumping out at him. _John Doe? _He opened it up and quickly scanned the pages, all of them with the same name. _Bracelet!_ The idea struck him so he put the chart back and checked his left wrist, indeed the name was a match. _Of course, that's why it's familiar, it's my name. _A satisfied sigh later he slipped into the hallway moving on autopilot in the only direction he could go. _It's a small hospital, I need clothes there's gotta be a storage... ahh! _He shook his head, there wasn't even a lock on the knob. He glanced around quickly and slid into the small room quickly stripping off the jonnie.

He took a moment to look himself over, his arms and legs were sunburn red and there were a few spots where he was bandaged. _Burned, how? What happened? If I was burned I should remember it shouldn't I? _He shook his head sliding into a pair of blue scrubs then slid a pair of booties onto his feet and finally put his boots on. _I gotta get out of here,_ he stopped with his hand on the doorknob, _go where? _He patted himself down frowning, _what the hell kind of idiot doesn't have a wallet? What the hell was I doing?_ He wondered as the sound of flames leaped to life behind him. He turned startled, his skin prickling as sweat tried to explode out of him. His throat clenched and his lungs began to spasm. He turned, grasped a pair of scrubs and pressed them hard into his face as a series of shredding coughs doubled him over.

When he was through and breathing with a semblance of normalcy again he leaned against the wall, wondering if he shouldn't be back in his bed and resting.

He shook his head and moved quickly toward the emergency exit and somehow knew that the threat to sound an alarm if the door was opened would only be valid if there was a power outage and the place was on lockdown. _Maybe I belong here, maybe I'm a doctor, or a nurse, _but quickly dismissed that idea _...what do I do? _Moving down the stairs quickly he emerged into the main lobby where the reception desk stood empty and apparently closed for the night. _Computers... maybe my address is in one of the files. _

In a matter of minutes he sat back scrubbing his head with his hand, _well that just doesn't make sense. Course maybe I left my wallet in the car... but which car? What do I drive? _He took out the keys and examined them, _it's old, old enough to use a different key for the doors and the trunk, her carb gets touchy in the mountains. Huh, how'd I know that? If it's a carburetor mixed instead of fuel injected it's older, maybe as late as the late 70's to early 80's... a classic, cool. Bet I'll spot her right away. _ He grinned satisfied with his train of logic and headed out into the mist covered parking lot.

OOooOO

The parking lot was eerily quiet, something about the mist covered blacktop altering the sound of his footsteps quiet though they were. Though the night temperature should have been comfortable, and felt and smelled like the heart of summer moisture penetrated his stolen scrubs, the temperature vastly different and deeply chilling against his burned skin.

He moved among the handful of cars double checking though he was certain none of them belonged to the keys in his pocket. There was one more car on the far side of the lot, sitting alone in a darkened corner. The hairs on the back of his neck stood straight as he approached it and his belly tightened but he couldn't turn back. There was something that drew him forward. _Wish I had a bat or something. _He moved quietly to the far side of the car, his keys tight in his fist, the tips of them stabbing out from between his fingers just in case. In the periphery of his hearing a throaty engine sound came tumbling through the trees. Footsteps rustled, almost as if they were pacing him, staying exactly opposite his position. At the drivers side, nearby branches rustled setting his heart racing in his chest as what sounded like footsteps tore through the foliage, running from him.

He had no choice but to follow. Wet slick leaves closed around him just before headlights flicked over his position lighting the back side of something gray and mucous-slick as it seemed to glide between trees. _Hah! What the hell?_ He charged forward evading slapping leaves and branches, his feet moving with a certainty he didn't have a chance to wonder about. Somewhere behind him a voice shouted but he couldn't hear what was said over the sound of his own ragged breathing.

His boot slid on a fallen branch and he lurched forward pinwheeling his arms to keep himself upright. A hard arm grabbed him from behind, locking around his throat, pulling him tight against a hard body. One of the hands slid under his jaw while the other arm kept him pinned him to the body behind him, heat began to build against his back and for a moment it felt good, getting rid of the chill but a heartbeat later the heat penetrated his skin, searing him all over again. Everywhere this guy had a hold on him was starting to feel like it was on fire.

"Help!" he croaked the sound barely audible even in the quiet night. Gray started to close in on the edges of his vision, his limbs fell away from his assailant, his head rolled back as those hands adjusted their grip, cradling him one arm around the back and the other holding his head up from behind. _What are you?_ He wondered fleetingly, taking in the lines, swirls and patterns of ink tattooed all over the man's face. _I've seen that before,_ he realized as the mouth closed over his and his assailant drew deeply, it seemed as if he was trying to pull the very breath from his body.

Something silver cartwheeled past his face just as the world went dark.

OOooOO

Tbc.

Please R&R.

Thanks.

sifi


	2. Chapter 2

No Good Deed – chpt 2.

By sifi:

OOooOO

_Mmm ooow... pain. Hot... can't breathe. _He was about to consider panicking when cool moist air seemed to explode into his throat, his lungs fluttered in his chest as did his heart, and his body felt like it was roasting on a spit as he rolled onto his side coughing until fireworks blinded him from the inside.

_What happened? _He wondered as he tried to recover his breath. His eyes rolled open, the lids hot and stinging. _I've felt this before, _but the memory of it was deep and long ago, and somehow he just couldn't seem to pin it down. _Feel like I've been baked._ He looked around confused by the 1920's bordello theme and forced himself to sit up. _It's a motel room... what the hell kind of motel…?_ He shook his head and looked down. He was wearing a pair of blue scrubs and his arms were deep red as if he'd been out in the sun for days. He poked at a couple small blisters, swiped at some dried blood where he presumed there'd been a needle in the back of his hand, and wondered at the couple gauze bandages he could see. _I hurt._ He winced, a brown leather satchel on a second bed catching his attention.

He pushed himself to his feet then caught sight of a band on his wrist. _Doe, John. Well at least I know my name now. What happened? Musta been a dream or something... why was I in a hospital?_ He shambled over to the other bed looking around the otherwise empty room, _thank god, real clothes._ He dug into the bag pulling out a pair of jeans, t-shirt and some underwear then dug more deeply, looking for some confirmation of his identity. There was something about the name John Doe that just didn't feel right no matter how familiar it might be, unfortunately there was nothing else in the bag or the shave kit.

Grabbing the clothes he shambled tiredly into the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror, his gaze moving over the contours and planes of a face he didn't recognize. _Man is this a weird feeling. _His face was burned just like his arms, there were several blisters over his throat and he looked like he hadn't shaved in several days. His skin stung as sweat started to push its way through the layers. Slowly he pulled off the scrubs and started the tub filling with luke warm water while he inspected himself.

His legs, a line across his chest and almost the whole of his back were the same deep red as his arms. There were huge scars in the form of hand prints over his shoulders, and a scary number of smaller ones that he could see almost everywhere on his chest and belly. There was what looked like it might've been a bullet hole in his thigh that left him feeling just a little green. _What the hell happened? Where did all these come from? Who AM I? _Desperate fear met desperate fear in the mirror as trembling hands splashed cool water on his face.

Moments later, he lowered himself slowly into the tub whimpering with both the pain of his skin contracting, and the relief as his flesh began to cool.

He had no idea how long he'd been soaking but the sound of a door opening in the next room startled him wide awake and set his heart trotting in his chest as a layer of sweat broke fresh over him.

He patted himself dry and slid into the shorts wondering why they felt wrong. Frowning he slid into the jeans, looked at the several extra inches of denim covering his feet and put the scrubs back on before returning to the main room.

_How did I get here? _He opened the door and looked down the hall, the feeling familiar but not. _I must travel a lot. _Returning to the satchel on the other bed he pulled the clothes from it, going through each piece wondering if it was wrong that not a single thing sparked so much as a sense of familiarity. When he was fairly sure the bag was empty he ran his hand around the inside, and felt his tummy squeeze. Under his finger was a snap that he flipped open. He pulled his hand out of the bag wondering why he would have a gun. _Am I a cop? Yeah, _he nodded to himself, _maybe I'm a cop and I'm under cover? That would explain the lack of I.D. but... what happened? Maybe I'm not a cop, maybe I'm on the run. I don't feel like a bad guy..._ confused and growing angry he glanced at the money clip on the night table, then at the stack of local fast food delivery places and sat on the edge of the bed with the gun cradled in his lap while confusion spun him round on the inside. Everything he'd been through left him nauseated and aching in time with the sparkling pain of his burned skin. A shiver rocked him, clamping his teeth down on his tongue and suddenly it was too much effort to hold himself up. He listed to the side, his head hitting the pillow, his only comfort the fire arm he held cradled to his chest as consciousness slid away.

OOooOO

A tickle born of humid mildew threatened to make him cough as he slid along the wall of the half standing structure, _this is just too much like the djinn... well same family different branch but still why's it gotta be ruins? At least this time Dean's safe. _He smirked, almost tempted to snicker, _he ever finds out the bastard kissed him he'll gargle with holy water for a week, heh. Lucky that's all it did though. Damn thing coulda killed him, roasting him from the inside out. Why didn't he call me instead of taking off after it on his own? Reckless Dean. S'not like him... yeah,_ he nodded recalling their last encounter with a djinn, _yeah it is, worrying about me instead of his own skin... damnit Dean._ A shuffle down the hall stopped him cold and had him pressing his back against the wall, the silver blade dipped in lambs blood turned up against his arm as he scanned the hallway to the left and to the right.

He could still see the blade cartwheeling through the night as the ancient being's head snapped up, its mouth leaving Dean's as the older man slid bonelessly to the ground, the blade nicked its shoulder as it turned and ran disappearing quickly into the darkness leaving Sam kneeling with his heart pounding in his throat, over his big brother. When it became clear Sam wasn't going to be able to rouse Dean, he slung the man over his shoulders and brought him back to the motel to keep him out of harms' way then headed back out in the hopes of finding it's lair and maybe even Laura.

_What I wanna know is why? Why her? Why HIM? Is it a vengeance thing? I mean we DID kill one of its kin. Did it find out... oh man, oh man no... please no..._ he thought rolling his eyes and cursing himself for letting it go. His memory shot back to the end of the previous summer when he and Dean led the small army of demons against Nergal and his puppets. Among the demons that had come to work with them and the other hunters, there'd been a djinn and he had no idea where it went after the battle had been won and Nergal and his rabid troops destroyed. _What if it knew we killed one of its kind before? What if it went and spread the word to uncle Ifrit... son of a BITCH! All it would have to do is grab Laura and it would know we'd follow. I hope she's okay,_ he tried not to groan as a sense of her crisp clean flavor tickled him. _Mm kiss. _He could almost feel her curves in his hands and before he fell into the sensation shook his head clear, refocusing himself on the business at hand. _Get her back then go get a hookup, yeah._ He nodded swallowing hard as his skin quivered just a little delightfully under a sudden spring of sweat.

He moved forward drawn to the last area that needed to be checked in this structure hoping that this would be the one. He'd already been through one of the other two possibilities in the area and he didn't want to leave Dean alone for much longer. But if it wasn't here, he would have to go back and the two of them would have to continue the hunt tomorrow.

As he entered what used to be a boiler room it was evident the Ifrit had been here, at least within the last couple weeks even if it wasn't currently residing here. There were no human remains that he could see, but there was a faint echo of the scent of burnt human meat. And although there were scraps and bits of clothes, it was most likely that they'd been torn during struggles before it fed. He knew this one wasn't careless, there'd be no signs of IV's, tubing, bags or blood.

Unlike the common djinn that most lore centered on, the same kind that had captured Dean and that girl, and fed off their life's blood, Ifrit's while they were of the djinn family, were actually higher up on the hierarchy and as such, they had some extra abilities. One of which was when they were finished feasting on their prey, they could incinerate a human body in a matter of minutes with just a touch.

"Son of a bitch." He huffed angrily while examining a foot print on the dirt floor. "Size looks about right." He thought as an image of her bare feet came to mind, then brought with it smooth bare legs that ended... he shook his head, _come on SAM! What the hell is WRONG with me? I gotta stop thinkin' like this! Sheesh! I just need to get laid. I gotta talk to someone about this... Dean or Laura? I mean... this is so not right._ He glanced at the foot print again, _it had her here but it's been a couple days. There's dust already inside the print. It moved her. Damnit! _

Frustrated and exhausted Sam slid the impala out onto the road and pointed her back toward the motel where he'd left Dean.

OOooOO

Dean startled awake with a series of sharp raps on the door. He flipped toward it, his eyes scanning the room for a split second before he lurched quietly out of the bed fueled by adrenaline and moved to the peep hole, the gun still in his hand. He pressed his eye to the glass and frowned at the empty hall. His toe hit something other than carpet and he looked down.

He slit the envelope open and dumped the contents onto the table, a single Polaroid picture slid onto the formica. If he'd been able to remember anything other than his name being John Doe, he would have shuddered.

On the top border was printed a question, "Do you remember her?" and on the bottom was printed a statement, "You took one of mine, I took one of yours." He flipped the photo over on the back of the bottom border was an address. "1444 Sandover Dr."

He flipped the photo over again, this time taking a moment to look at the woman. She had shoulder length strawberry blonde hair, an elfin jawline and skin that looked like might it feel like warm butterscotch. Her eyes were closed, she appeared to be unconscious and though she was bound to what appeared to be a narrow table, from her ankles up to her armpits with another rope secure over her throat, and a gag in her mouth her hands were folded neatly over her chest. The incongruity of it struck him, leaving him curious for long moments while something twisted in his belly, _mine? She doesn't look familiar. _Then his eyes fell on her left hand, posed serenely over her right, and the ring on her fourth finger. He looked at his own hands then back at hers, _I have a wife? I don't feel married. I should feel it right? I should feel SOMETHING... there should be some sense of something shouldn't there? What the hell happened to me?_ He wondered then felt something shrug inside, _it doesn't matter, this son of a bitch is going down! Whoever he is, whoever she is... you don't do that to someone! _He looked at the gun in his hand and reached for his boots with one hand while opening the laptop on the table with the other.

In moments he had a route courtesy of mapquest and bothered to wonder that he should recall some of these rudimentary things while he could barely remember his name. _And why having a gun in my hands is as comfortable as holding my... well point is why? What the hell is going on? _He slid into a hoodie that came from the satchel, snatched the car keys off the nightstand and stuck the photo into his shirt pocket and the gun into the back of his pants. In the hall he noted the room number then moved quickly to the stairs, not bothering to wait for the elevator.

At the desk he stopped and leaned over the counter smiling openly at the petite Asian woman there, "Hi, I have kind of a strange question for you... have you been on all night?" he asked.

"Mm hm." She smiled looking him up and down.

"Do you happen to know what kind of car I'm driving?"

Slowly she shook her head, "Other than it's a black classic, uh uh. Your boyfriend took it when he dropped you off, which was about four and a half hours ago just cause I know you're gonna ask. You were pretty trashed."

His smile trembled but held, "It was a long shift." The comment sounded defensive even in his own ears.

"I'll bet." She smirked and licked her lips.

_Boyfriend? But I'm married. Not that it would be... no NO! I mean, I don't feel like I'm, _"... he didn't... you did say 'he' right?" he asked puzzled. _Maybe it's a setup? _

She nodded, "Yep. Looked like the gentle type."

"He," he shook his head, "he didn't say where he was going did he?"

She shook her head, "I'm not your momma sweetheart I don't care what you do or who you do it with, what time you go out and what time you come in as long as the bill gets paid."

"A guy?" he muttered softly and frowned while looking out the front window.

"If it's any consolation, he didn't bring his bag back out so odds are he's coming back for more."

"Huh." Dean shook his head, _something's not adding up right. _"Thanks." He muttered stepping out onto the largely deserted street, taking a moment to orient himself with a peek at the map then turning to the right.

OOooOO

Tbc .

Please R&R.

Thanks.

Sifi.


	3. Chapter 3

No Good Deed – chpt 3.

By: sifi.

OOooOO

Movement caught his attention on the otherwise empty street. His eyes flicked to the alley just as the light blue pants of some early morning go-getter, or late night straggler, disappeared into darkness. _Mm didn't realize I was that tired_. He turned the corner knowing there were only a few more blocks back to the motel, _should pick up something to eat, Dean'll be hungry, probably want some beer too._ He decided to park at the motel then walk to the end of the block for some pre-made convenience store sandwiches, chips and beer. The cool night air would do him good, help him get his mind straight and maybe even help figure out why he couldn't get his brother's girl out of his mind. _She's not even my type! Well, she is strong…loyal to a fault… and she did die for us. I mean what more could a guy ask right? She's full and springy and warm and tastes like fruit loops. Ow._ He groaned as his body responded to his train of thought. _Great, a second adolescence… Seriously, I just need to go get laid, that's all. I mean Dean's got one thing right, it IS kind of a cure-all. _He slid the car into a parking spot, locked her up and walked down the ramp back toward the street grateful he wore his shirts loose and on the outside.

OOooOO

He shifted, adjusting Dean's duffel bag over his shoulder at just the same time as the paper bag with the food and beer decided to fall apart. The sandwiches pretty much jumped right out onto the floor and somehow the sixteen ounce cans popped their plastic loops, several of them overbalancing and rolling into the corners of the car, "Damnit!" he cursed turning the bag and piling everything into whatever was left of it then hoisting it into his arms just as the car came to a stop and the door opened. "Not my night."

At the room he pressed the bundle into the wall, hoping it would hold while he dug out the key. "Dean open the friggin door man!" He called pressing his chin to a beer can that looked about ready to make a suicidal leap, "Don't tell me he's still out?" he wondered aloud finally getting his key into the door and managing to get inside the room before the bundle exploded again as he elbowed the light switch.

"What the hell?" he frowned looking around at his clothes strewn all over the room, a pair of his jeans on the otherwise empty bed in which he'd actually left his big brother, "Dean!" he barked angrily, his eyes flicking to the open bathroom door. _He's not here._ On the nightstand was the older man's cell phone. "Son of a bitch!" his foot drew back and let fly a kick that sent one of the beer cans careening explosively into the wall. "I'm gonna kill him. I'm gonna freakin' KILL him!" he growled fisting his hand in his hair. He wasn't willing to believe that it was some kind of karmic payback for the times he'd disappeared on Dean over the years. This was just NOT like this brother! _First he misses an appointed meet and drops off the grid for three friggin' days before I find him at some pissant hole in the wall hospital looking like he's been baked alive and now the idiot just takes off! What the FUCK! _He whirled around, glancing at the night stands and the table for a note or any sign of where he might've gone. The sound of the laptop's fan cut through his anger, _I didn't leave it on._ He woke the machine up and flopped wearily into the chair as mapquest directions came up on the screen, the destination address sending a shiver through him as he pulled a slip of paper from his jacket pocket. _Figures it would be the next one on the list. Son of a BITCH! _Of the last two abandoned buildings in the area 1444 Sandover Dr. was where he should've gone instead of returning to the motel.

The image of those light blue pants disappearing into the dark struck him like a blow. "DAMNIT DEAN!" he shouted and received a series of thumps against the wall accompanied by a sleepy but aggravated, 'Shut the fuck up asshole!' before he turned around running for the stairs.

OOooOO

_How the hell am I supposed to find her in this place? It's friggin huge!_ He looked up at the old high school, the thick wire coverings on the windows giving him the shivers as he wondered fleetingly what his high school experience had been. He pulled out the photo again and examined it closely in the faintly lighter gray of coming morning. _That's a really narrow looking table, nurse's office? _He shook his head and frowned, something odd in the shadows that gave him a sense of a very big open space. _Assembly hall? But where..._ he stood back taking a good look at the old decrepit building as the answer came to him, _the gym, bleachers, the kind that folded into the wall. Oh man, that could be very not good._

Quickly but carefully he began a circuit of the building, hoping to be able to spot a door near the gym relatively quickly, and then hoping he'd be able to get inside quietly enough to get a jump on whoever this bastard was that had the girl bound up like that.

While he moved he kept his eyes peeled, searching the inner city detritus for anything he could use to either open a door, or hang onto as a bludgeon should he lose the gun. At the edge of the rear outer wall that obviously belonged to the gymnasium, was a smaller door that looked like it might lead to an office, or an equipment room or something. He was surprised that his heart wasn't ready to leap out of his chest, and that although there was no sense of familiarity about what he was doing, or contemplating doing, it didn't feel wrong. He gave a gentle push to the door and frowned as it opened. _He knows I'm here and he's watching. Did he do something that made me forget? Was it his fault? Is it the same guy that brought me to the motel? Who is he? Why is he doing this? Why me? Why HER? Did we do something to deserve it? Why can't I REMEMBER! _Not for the first time he wanted to scream out a little rage, and not for the first time he held it in check determined to use the pent up energy to his advantage. _If she's mine I should remember her. If he did something that's blocking my memory maybe he's just pushing buttons to see what I'll do and she's really NOT mine. But then why? Just for shit's and giggles? _He glanced inside quickly scanning for signs of movement or any traps before keeping his body pressed to the wall and turning smoothly until he was inside the building, swathed in shadow.

What bothered him the most was the fact that he didn't _feel_ like he was missing anything. There was no sense of anything itching in the back of his mind like he thought there should be. It was as if there was simply nothing in his mind that belonged exclusively to the man named John Doe. Everything he KNEW, was the same stuff a billion other people knew, how to access the internet, what a gun was and how to use it, his ABC's, how to read a map, that he couldn't turn his back on someone in need whether he knew them or not. It was as if his mind was a freshly washed blackboard without so much as a hint of chalkdust on it to tell him he should know more, to tell him what kind of man he was, or what he did for a living, or who he loved and why. _Do I have any kids? _He wondered fleetingly and felt around inside for any sense of knowledge, once again frustrated by the pure nothingness that left him feeling like an empty vessel.

Taking a breath he followed a faint line of lighter darkness moving carefully and as stealthily as possible to the right. His logic had been right on the money, the partially open door led to a large gymnasium that appeared to be full of stacked chairs, desks and assorted bits and pieces of high school furniture. The copious stacks of debris created a maze of dangerous and potentially deadly hazards.

A muted whimper drew him forward, carefully snaking his way through the leaning towers of derelict furniture. Ahead of him something snapped sounding almost like a dry twig, only considering the gagged scream that came after it he was fairly sure it was no twig. There was a deep chuckle and a resounding 'thud' that carried an echo behind it. A high pitched muzzled bark and a series of grunts followed and was quickly followed by a series of fleshy sounding 'whacks', each one layered atop that metallic rolling echo until a simple sob found him, pulling him forward before the female sounds stopped and the hideous sound of cruel deep masculine laughter was all that remained.

"Find him." A gravelly voice ordered softly before another 'thud' and grunt sounded.

He crouched low and sought the deepest shadow possible, as something closed over him from behind and pulled him tight, a hand covering his mouth and lips at his ear, "I brought the knife." The whisper tickled his ear, and he breathed wondering what exactly his next move should be. "Wait here, I'll circle around the gym from the hall."

_The guy with the clothes, _Dean realized then turned, his initial spike of fear fading quickly with the prospect of help in spite of the fact that he had no clue who this guy might be to him if anyone.

"How many?" he mouthed.

Slowly Dean held up two fingers then shrugged and shook his head, indicating he wasn't really sure.

"Count to fifty then get their attention, I'll slip in behind it." The newcomer whispered, his brows furrowed as he searched Dean's face.

"Got it?" Sam asked frowning deeply. He didn't like the blank look on his brother's face, as if he didn't understand the simple instruction. Relief washed over him as the older man seemed to make a decision and nodded. "One one thousand, two one thousand..." he started counting, leading Dean to do the same as he backed into the shadows and slid with long nearly silent strides back to the equipment room and the door that would take him out into the hall.

Dean shook his head and crouched deep into the shadow, inching slowly closer while trying to evade whoever it was that had been ordered to find him. _He said 'it'. And a knife? Give me a gun any time man. Who is he to me? He acted like he knew me, and why did he have clothes in MY room? I mean they had to be his, the guy's freakin ginormous. I hope to God he's really here to help._ A shadow of legs crossed his field of vision, stopping him in his tracks. He looked around. Just a little further up ahead he could turn left and maybe get behind the owner of them and take him out. _How? Smack 'im with the gun? Sleeper hold? Guess I'll figure it out._ He moved, still counting and hoping the tall one would be able to do as he'd said he would.

OOooOO

Sam stood outside the inner gym door, the latch pressed down by his thumb, silently counting as he peered between the doors waiting for Dean to cause a distraction, _forty-two one thousand, forty-three one thousand, he's not up to the game, he's still stunned or something, forty-five one thousand. _His gaze hopped from the Ifrit to Laura, heavily bound, like a fly in a spider's web to one of the bleacher benches, the sporadic rise and fall of her chest told him she probably had some broken ribs, _sounds like she's crying,_ he tilted his head toward the break between the doors his brows furrowing deeply and his mouth turning down as his belly twitched uncomfortably, _she doesn't cry... not like THAT._

A stack of chairs slid along the gym floor, then waved and wobbled before toppling half its height over, knocking into a stack of desks that went completely down.

_That's my cue,_ he slid into the gym using the length of his stride to close quickly on the Ifrit before it realized he was there.

He moved quickly but apparently not quietly enough as the high ranking djinn turned scowling at him, then raced forward and launched itself at him.

The weight impacted Sam hard, sending him skidding on his back while the human-esque creature clasped his face, gasping as the blade slid upward into its chest and gave one final push of its energy, effectively leeching the will out of the younger Winchester, stealing it for its own use. It pushed off the man, the blade sliding out of its body, the hole closing as it turned to the side and leaned forward, tilting Sam's head backward while its mouth moved toward his.

"HEY!" Dean shouted, catching the attention of the thing leaning over his ally. He squeezed, erupting thunder into the enclosed space, the force behind the bullet launching the tattooed man a handful of feet off to the side. "You alright?" he called as his ally rolled and tried to push himself to all fours.

"Behind you!" he grunted as the Ifrit's accomplice grasped Dean by the hood, whipped him around and rained down punches on him, backing him through the gym without mercy.

"Dean!" Sam called as the Ifrit rose up again, a hole pouring blue-black from its forehead. "Kill it!" he called reaching his hand toward the immortal creature, _no more screwing around!_ It sailed, writhing in his psychic grip, across the gym until he had it pinned against the wall. He held it there, regaining his balance step by step, the lamb's blood and ichor coated blade in his hand, at eye level to the creature.

Fear filled its eyes as it realized the futility of its attempt at revenge. When it started its campaign by capturing the King's woman it knew it would eventually be going up against the Chosen one and still it pressed on and now as it was going to witness his power, it wondered why.

Sam felt power uncoiling from within, he felt it reaching out exactly as he commanded it to, doing no more and no less than he chose as he stepped into the blow, the blade slicing through the creature's spinal cord, watching that blue light course one last time through its body and over its sacred markings before going out forever.

Panting he withdrew the blade and turned trying to get a fix on his brother.

"Get the girl!" Dean called as his assailant went flying. He took the opening, raised the gun to eye level and dodged to the side as a chair was winged at his head.

_The GIRL? _Sam wondered frowning but did as the older man said and made his way to Laura who screamed beneath the gag and struggled while whimpering and pleading as he approached with the blade high in his hand.

"It's okay, Laura, it's okay it's me Sam, calm down." He instructed and started cutting through the rope at her throat, hoping she wasn't going to keep squirming, "Calm down I don't want to cut you!" he urged gazing hard into her eyes. _Just like Dean's, Tommy gave her Dean's eye color... sculpted... god he did a beautiful job, why is she looking at me like that?_ There was fear in her eyes, as if she didn't recognize him. He moved down to the main bulk of the rope that bound her tightly to the bench, as he uncovered her bit by bit he realized she was wearing nothing more than a tank top and her underwear. _Well she was kidnapped from her room in the middle of the night. Those legs... _he shook his head as another explosion roared through the gym and footfalls jogged toward them.

"How is she?" Dean asked, reaching behind her head to undo the gag in her mouth, "Easy, it's okay you're safe." He soothed her renewed panic.

"Something's wrong, do you think it did something to her?"

"Of course something's wrong, she's been tied up and god only knows what by a couple of psychos for god only knows how long..." he grumbled gently removing the knotted rag from her mouth and running his hand down the side of her face while holding her eyes with his own, "Shh it's okay now, we're gonna get you out of here just stay calm okay." She sniffed and nodded, trying to steady her breathing while holding his gaze.

Sam finished unwinding the rope that had her bound to the bleacher, then reached under her, helping her sit up, his skin seeming to flutter everywhere he touched her. He cleared his throat, "So what was that other thing?" he asked.

"Huh?" Dean reluctantly tore his eyes from the woman, "What thing?" he asked pulling the photo from his shirt pocket and studying it for a moment before trying to see the face beneath the bruises, splits and swellings.

"What's that?" Sam asked nodding at the photo while he untied her ankles. He made the mistake of looking up, tracing the line of her thighs back toward her body, a myriad of bruises deep in what should have been pristine skin peppered here and there told him her captivity had NOT been just a matter of being tied up and held prisoner, _not again... don't have put her through that again please! _ He prayed and leaned forward, his forehead coming to rest on her knee as he fought down the torrent of anguish swirling through him.

"Her." Dean turned it toward him for a moment then slid it back into his pocket, "Someone slid it under the door at the motel, I'm guessing one of these two guys." He met the younger man's eyes, "Do you have any idea who they were?"

"What?" Sam asked thoroughly confused as he finished untying the ropes. He looked into her eyes, "Stay here." He shook his head and after grabbing the gun dashed off to where he'd last seen his brother fighting whatever would have worked in conjunction with a djinn.

"Stay here," Dean asked softly, his finger under her chin feeling a faint nod. "I'll be right back." He assured then quickly pulled off the dark brown hoodie and wrapped her into it.

OOooOO

"He's dead right?" Dean asked crouching at the side of the body where Sam was checking for a pulse.

"Yeah," Sam nodded, "he's dead. Well whatever he was, he wasn't a zombie. We sure as hell know consecrated rounds wouldn't have worked on one of them. Think it was a ghoul or something?" he asked.

"A ghoul?" Dean nodded and looked around, "guess he'd kinda hafta be wouldn't he?"

"I think he hurt her," Sam muttered, "the way she's bruised up, it's like Chicago all over again."

"Chicago?" Dean turned at looked into his eyes, "What do you mean?"

"What do you mean what do I mean?" Sam asked then shook his head and grabbed him by the upper arm, leading him to the far side of the gym where the Ifrit's body lay slumped against the cinder block walls. He pointed to the creature, "Do you recognize it?"

Dean shook his head, "No. Should I?"

"Well if you don't recognize it directly then it's a pretty safe bet it went after you out of revenge." Sam sighed.

"Revenge? What'd I ever do to him?" Dean asked then checked his volume and looked back at the empty bleachers. "Uh no."

"You killed one of its kin Dean... the djinn a couple years ago... remember?" Sam asked then noted his brother's expression, "What?" he followed the older man's line of sight to the empty bleachers and felt his heart skip a beat. _Laura._

"She's gone," Dean turned but was caught by Sam's grip.

"Son of a bitch." He snarled, "There might be others." He glanced quickly around then pressed the gun back into Dean's hand before pointing toward the doors and nodding a go-ahead.

Taking a moment Dean grabbed the taller man by the arm and stuck his right hand forward, "Look, I don't know who _Dean _is. My name is John. John Doe, s'good to meet you."

OOooOO

End.

PleaseR&R.

Thanks.

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